What is Marching?
by O Spastic One
Summary: This is an essay I wrote for English. I liked it, and I hope you guys all will, too.


Marching Is… _2 Hours…_

I don't even know why I did it. Why did I sign up for it? Was it because all my older siblings did it? Was it because all of my friends were doing it? Was I a victim of peer pressure?

All these questions kept nagging me as I walked up to the door. I'd done it many times before, but this time was different. As I was walking up to the room, I saw someone go from one side of the door to the other. I opened it up and Adrian was up in my face saying, "You're on time!"

I kind of drew back and said, "Yeah. I am." He walked away and I thought, "Okay, that was a little weird."

"ELSIE!" Daniel screamed at me when I walked in.

"WHAT?" I yelled back, startled.

He and Carley laughed as I walked up to them. "That was awesome, Elsie," Carley said.

"I know. I'm just like that," I said, striking a pose.

"You might want to go and get your uniform before the rush gets here," Daniel suggested, hanging his on his locker.

"Okay," I complied and walked to the uniform room where Stephen got the uniform and shako for me. I walked to my locker to hang my uniform on it. I zipped it open, just to see it. I looked at the navy blue cloth and ran my fingers over it. It was a little rough, but that's how woven cloth is, I guess.

"Mellos, get your instruments out!" Adrian ordered as he got his Mello.

I zipped up my uniform bag as Daniel and I got our instruments out. Carley sat on her Mello case and did something else because it was more pressing than the sectional that Adrian had planned, apparently. Daniel and I walked to the prep room where we were going to hold the sectional. Adrian had gone ahead of us, and he was already in the prep room. But when I walked past it, Adrian was standing in the dark room and smiling creepily out the window. I started and said, "Whoa! That's _really_ creepy! Like, beyond all reason!"

"What?" Daniel asked, walking up to me. I pointed at Adrian, who was still smiling creepily, and Daniel laughed. We walked into the prep room and practiced the music we were to be playing that night. We worked on making the music better and we hoped that we would do well that night, as it was our first performance. Adrian gave us both pointers and told us to push more air through the horn to make a better sound, especially when we're marching.

_1 ½ Hours…_

"Circle up in your arcs!" the drum majors ordered.

I walked over to where the other Mellos were and stretched with the whole band. As we stretched, Mrs. Jepperson said, "Section leaders, take roll. If someone's not here, they're tardy."

Adrian looked down the Mello line and made a mental note that Nathan wasn't there. I thought, "Boy, if Nathan comes in late, he'll have to face the wrath of Adrian."

When we were in the midst of stretching, Nathan walked in. Adrian made an angry face but didn't say anything. Nathan just took his place between me and Daniel, not making any sign that he had noticed Adrian's evil face.

_45 Minutes…_

"Lay down now," Michael ordered. "Close your eyes and relax. Breathe calmly. I want you to remember. Remember everything. Remember band camp, all the hard work you put into it. Do you remember when Jepperson first played the show for us last year? Do you remember the excitement you felt? Do you remember the first day of band camp? You were all excited to start playing the show, weren't you? When we first started playing the show, do you remember how you felt? Do you remember all the sweat, tears and, in some cases, blood that went into this show during band camp? Do you remember all the hard work you put into this? I want you to put that excitement, that hard work, everything, through your horn.

"There are people here to see _you,_ not the football game; friends and family. But, there are a lot of people here just to see the game." Petey paused for effect. My stomach churned with anger at those people and I growled inside. "They just use half-time to go and get a chili-dog, nachos, whatever. How do you feel? Angry? That's how you should feel. Convert that anger into energy and put it through your horn. Make people like that notice you.

"Now open your eyes." He waited a second for all of us to open our eyes. "Now sit up slowly." We all sat up, renewed. There was a feeling in the room that hadn't been there before. I can't even describe it, but whatever it was…it was the feeling that had been missing. It was what we all had been missing.

_No Time!_

We were all in uniform, on our way out to the field. The drumline tapped out a cadence, and we all started with our left foot, as we were taught. We moved as one, as we would've hoped. When we got to the track, the drumline stopped the cadence and we all stopped marching.

As we waited to go onto the field, I finally got it. I finally knew why I signed up for it. It wasn't because of my older siblings, it wasn't because all of my friends were doing it. I mean, sure, that played a part in it, but that wasn't the only reason. I'd always been enraptured by the marching band, but I'd never felt what it was like. My older siblings had come home with stories that had always made me want to be a part of a marching band. It was my choice to do marching band, and I don't regret it. That night on the field, I finally got why I'd done it. Marching band is a team. We're a family, and without someone, the family is not complete. The picture doesn't look right. In marching band, you're needed. Just to be part of something that big and important is enough. That is why I signed up for marching band. It's a second family, and everyone in it is your sibling. You love them like your real family and you do stuff with them like your family. However, we also go through the same things families do. There's anger, frustration, good times and bad times. Through all of these things, though, we love each other all the same. That is why I am in marching band.

As I realized this, I stood up a little taller and made a conscious effort to make my knees straighter, like she wanted us to. I put my cold mouthpiece up to my lips and released the anger, the passion, the hard work, and the love that was inside me through my instrument. And, without a doubt, I tried the best that I had that night.


End file.
